


Lo, at night

by ncfan



Category: Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
Genre: Gen, Isolation, POV Female Character, Pedophilia, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Triggers, emotional isolation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 14:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5788363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncfan/pseuds/ncfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, she always ends up like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lo, at night

**Author's Note:**

> [CN/TW: References to rape, sexual abuse, molestation, pedophilia. The only reason this work didn’t get an M-rating is because it’s non-explicit.]

It’s dark. Aside from the sudden watery rushing sound of someone flushing the hall toilet, all is silence. Well, no, wait—somebody’s started arguing upstairs, angry vicious voices rising and falling like the strains of a staticky radio; hello, somebody’s broken something. But that doesn’t matter. He’s still asleep. The beast has gorged himself on prepubescent flesh and sleeps like a dragon curled round its hoard. Dolores’s hands go to the seams of her pillow case, pluck, pluck, pluck, and slowly, the tears she’d been expecting begin to fall, as they have every night for a long time now.

They never used to go on trips like this when Mother was still alive. Maybe when Daddy was still around, they took trips then—they certainly had enough knick-knacks lying around the house from that one place in Mexico. Lo has always loved to flip through tour books and imagine herself _there_ , standing atop the Statue of Liberty, or sunbathing on some exotic beach, or kissing a handsome beau in Paris.

Funny how things turn out, huh?

The nights are too damned long. Come to mention it, the days are too long too. Too many opportunities presented for King Brute over there in a twenty-four hour day. Lo wishes when winter came the whole day would get shorter, instead of daylight getting shorter just so the night can get hours longer than it is in summer. It’s the sort of stuff Mother would call ‘nonsense’, but then, Mother would strangle her without a second thought if she could see her detested Lo like this.

Lo wishes sometimes she could do just that—you know, strangle him. She’d be doing everyone a favor; he’s gotta get tired of her sometime (Lo hopes, she _hopes_ ), and he’ll just move on to some other unsuspecting girl if she lets him. Some other girl who’ll look at him, think he’s handsome, and not see what a monster he is. But she doesn’t do that, for the same reason Lo doesn’t just slip out of bed, get dressed, and run away from this place as fast as her feet will carry her. There’s no one who’d help break her out, and the old lech would just wake up, raring to go _again_.

But something’s gotta happen soon. Either Lo kills the dragon or the dragon kills Lo, or the ghost of Charlotte Haze rises smoke-blue from the ground and murders them both. There’s a scream that keeps building in Lo’s throat, louder and louder and louder, the want to take hold of everything in reach and smash it to the ground like a toddler, just to see the look on the brute’s face when she does it (If she could, she’d do it to herself, just to watch him try to put her together again and fail—he only knows how to break things, and nothing about putting them together). Maybe it’s the reason she goes limp and hollow in his arms instead of scratching his eyes out like he deserves—or maybe she’s gotten that backwards, somewhere.

This can’t be it. This can’t be all there is. But the days keep turning out the same, and Lo always ends up like this, crying silently into her pillow, her skin crawling at remembered touch, while the best sleeps like a baby beside her.


End file.
